


Artemis and Apollo, Personified

by cyncitymojo



Series: Alphas [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Arranged Marriage, Banter, Bathtub Sex, Boys Kissing, Consensual Underage Sex, Destiny, Emotional Manipulation, First Time Shifting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pagan Gods, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Spirit Animals, True Mates, Wincest Reverse Bang, therianthropy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyncitymojo/pseuds/cyncitymojo
Summary: Blessed by gods, Sam and Dean are destined to be together against all odds. Will they be manipulated to the dark side together, or will they honor the gods who made it possible for their love to exist?When they are finally able to solidify their bond, will Dean give in to Sam's instinctual needs as he does everything else, or will he insist on that privilege going to him because he is the oldest?





	1. ~ PROLOGUE: Dawn of a New War ~

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE shout out of Thank You's to my artist [jessie_cristo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessie_cristo/pseuds/jessie_cristo), who also co-beta'd this along with [Jerzcaligrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerzcaligrl/pseuds/Jerzcaligrl) and [J2_Girlz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/J2_Girlz/pseuds/J2_Girlz)
> 
> These amazing ladies are machines! I will forever appreciate your help, tips, and patience while I slowly got out of my own way on this fic.
> 
> You can enjoy Jessie's amazing art post [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19300792).

 

 

The civilian world found out about the reality of supernatural creatures in the blink of an eye when purgatory was opened and the hosts of Heaven and Hell lost their dominions surrounding the mortal realm. Though mortal enemies, they’d come to an uneasy truce to try and thwart the takeover. Humans had been caught in the middle of it all, treated as currency in deals or territory to be claimed and fought over. When the event was over, almost as suddenly as it began, the mythical creatures from pagan lore, OtherKin, had taken the position as the most dangerous threat to human life. Celestials and Hellions were thought to have been completely obliterated.

While Celestials, single-minded warriors from Heaven, and Hellions, demonic creatures from Hell, interfered with Humans through possession and manipulation, OtherKin like Ghouls, Werewolves, Vampires, Demigods, and other mythical monsters thrived on feeding on them. Whether it be for sustenance or for ritualistic sacrifices, these creatures were things of nightmares and stories before they made themselves known. They plunged the world into a dark time.

The Celestial War a dystopian left era in its wake that set the world back in some ways, left knowledge and Science & Technology intact, but also exposed the existence of magic and the supernatural. Hunters, now known to the public as Therians due to their ability to shift their forms into their spirit animals, were highly respected, powerful members of the societal elite. These small communities blended into normal civilization well, though Therians had their own separate societies due to the differences in the morals, values, and laws that governed them as both Hunters and a classification of Human.

Life was simpler, there were no more sprawling glass and metal metropolis cities, no more skyscrapers. Metals were used for armor and weapons; glass was a priceless commodity. In the same light, life was more complex. Weapons were more sophisticated. Ultraviolet lasers, irradiated bullets, and UV flash bombs were necessary for OtherKin allergic to sunlight. Silver blades and arrows, silver nitrate tipped projectiles, and infused gas grenades replaced steel when it came to OtherKin sensitive to silver. Salt rounds, Solanum (Nightshade) extracts, and holo-forms were basic necessities in the field.

People lived in small villages, they made their own clothing and munitions, and they dealt mostly in skills and trade. Several human villages would make up one Therian family group’s patrolling territory. Arranged marriages were common, often more expected among the Therians in order to keep knowledge, strength, and powers within Hunter bloodlines. There were some human allies who fought alongside and eventually intermingled with the Therian populous. Most were the keepers of lore, documents of information once thought to be myth and legend that were revealed to be the history and rules of the supernatural world.

Throughout time, the human family name that held the most prestigious reputation as Lorekeepers was Winchester. Men and women born to that name were notorious for their research and intelligence. It was thought all but lost when Henry Winchester mysteriously disappeared, leaving his wife and young son, John as civilians. His wife had never strived to be part of the life, but she did ensure that John became a warrior in his own right. She told him his father was a brave and honorable man who fought to save the world.

John grew up providing similar services to his people when he joined the militia. He thrived and grew to provide weapons and tactical training. He’d even gone into battle. He’d learned of Therians then when he helped saved the lives of a small group defending a human camp from a horde of Hellions. 

The demonic creatures had gained the upper hand -this was the first time they’d been seen in generations- and the head of the hunting pack was gravely injured. John, being completely underestimated, easily wielded his crossbow with anointed silver-tipped arrows. He fatally shot the leader of the Hellions and wounded several others, creating an opportunity for the Therians to end the battle.

As a result of his bravery, John Winchester became the first human arranged into a life bond with the most well-known and highest ranked family among the Therians, a family of Lycanthropes named Campbell. John was honored. He’d learned many things about Therian culture and knew this was a massive compliment to his character.

Upon meeting John, Mary Campbell was incredulous. She was a proud Beta Lycan just like her mother, and stubborn like her Alpha father. She was also the daughter of the Grand Alpha of their pack. She’d never seen a human bound to a Therian before and she saw no reason to be the first to do so.

She’d relented once she’d been told the story of her family’s latest hunt which was led by her father, Samuel. Her cousins and their parents were with him that night. They told her that without the unexpected defense of John Winchester, Samuel Campbell might not be alive. He’d barely survived the skirmish and was still healing when his wife Deanna looked into John’s past and saw the potential opportunity. She’d known of the name Winchester and what it had once meant to the hunting world. She’d been delighted when she’d discovered that John was from that very bloodline that held so much knowledge and history.

She had faith that her daughter would see the potential eventually. John might be able to help them more than even he was aware. There had to be a reason why Hellions had returned. Celestials had never been encountered again. Without them as a sort of counterbalance to the demonic forces, and with the OtherKin still terrorizing the night, the human race faced annihilation and extinction.

 

~ ********** ~

 

A few months later, the couple was inseparable. Mary would never leave John’s side unless absolutely necessary. She’d learned that he was a good man, intelligent, strong, and intriguing. He was genuinely interested in _her_ culture, not just in how being tied to her would benefit his. He respected her, but he was also never cowed by her. He was more capable than most Therian warriors. No one except Mary was surprised with how quickly he won her over. She’d been a tougher judge than even Samuel, but if Samuel had already accepted him then the pack knew Mary was sure to follow.

The original ceremony planned for John and Mary had been extremely extravagant, but it was also highly guarded. Only selected Therian families and human allies from the Campbell territory villages were permitted as witnesses. There’d been attacks on Therian weddings since it had been discovered that they were sacred rituals meant to combine and pass on power and knowledge and imbue the strength from generations past.

Ceremonies were often completed outdoors during a full moon as this was when the anointments were blessed by Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunter’s Moon, and her twin brother, Apollo, the Sun God. Together, their blessings invoke protection and proficiency during hunting, speed during healing, and success in childbirth.

Along with the intricate decorations of specific flowers known to be ruled by the moon -gardenia, jasmine, and lily- all the guests permitted to attend wore colors attributed to the moon goddess. Men wore blue or silver and women wore complementing assortments of lilac, yellow, or orange. The Bride and Groom wore white with silver accents.

There was a sacred cloth soaking in an infusion of sandalwood, rose, mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris), jasmine, and many others. These plants, herbs, and oils have all been said to bring forth energies of childbirth, fertility, imagination, psychic knowledge, dream-working, and past-life recall. Scientifically, many of the herbs assist with blood flow, with the pituitary gland’s release of estrogen and progesterone, and other medicinal properties.

On the night of John and Mary’s handfasting, the Hunter’s Moon shone bright and beautiful against a star-filled, glittering, infinite black canvas. It appeared to hang low, full and pregnant with pride for the union it would be witnessing. Everything was perfect.

Samuel presented, with confidence, his only daughter to a young man to which he owed his life. He would be proud to officially call him Son as he’d gotten so accustomed. Over the past few months, some deep, internal, flayed open wound had healed within John from that term of respect and endearment. Deanna officiated over the event as it was a tradition for mothers to be ordained to gift their children with this rite of passage.

Deanna completed the vows and blessings and told John and Mary to join their hands at the wrists. She bound them in an elaborate design with the sacred cloth, meant to dry while tied to their hands, and they would stay bound to each other through the wedding night. The cloth was infused with trace amounts of silver nitrate that would create a permanent, yet painless, mark on John and Mary’s skin. The binding pattern was specific and identifiable, like a family crest.

The instant the binding was complete, the moon glowed even brighter and its beams illuminated the couple as they kissed to seal their union.

To the surprise of everyone and relief of most, there had been no attacks during the ceremony. In fact, that night and the week following were oddly quiet across the country. Many had been convinced that this pairing was so blessed, so sacred, that Artemis and Apollo were keeping all evil at bay. Deanna and some of her closest confidants had reservations about how perfectly easy everything had gone.

The consummation night is the most vulnerable two hunters can be. The binding of their hands puts the newlyweds into a trance as they get a glimpse into their future. They get to see their potential children and the possibilities of their paths in life. Most couples treat the experience as a lucid dream that they shared in the throes of passion when consummating their bond. They tend to forget most of the details as they move on with their lives, occasionally feeling Déjà vu.

Mary and John did not simply forget the visions they shared on their wedding night. They had been stolen and wiped from their minds by forces they could not control. There would be no way for them to stop, or prepare for, the destiny that awaited their children.

The Hellions once again went into hiding after nearly a year of chaos.

 


	2. ~ From Blessed Unions Come Truth ~

 

_Twenty Years Later…_

 

“Cheater! C’mon, Dean no fair!” squeaked Sam as he felt his feet swept from under him and was quickly approaching the ground. He had sharp reflexes though, and he quickly tucked into a roll, preventing more bruises by landing in a crouch.

“Aww, what’s the matter pipsqueak?” Dean teased, ruffling Sam’s floppy brown locks as he stood back up. “It’s not my fault you’re so short and scrawny. You practically begged me to start training you. I promised we’d start as soon as you presented. Took ya long enough, little brother.”

“I never asked you to kick my ass all week,” he grumbled, smacking Dean’s hand away.

“Language, Sammy. Besides, it’s not that different from when we used to play spar. I just had a growth spurt or two.”

“Whatever, jerk. Plus, I’m fourteen, not that far behind you. Nobody told you to go presenting at twelve, you Neanderthal. Just you wait, I’ll be bigger than you one day.”

“Well, we’re kinda running outta time kiddo. I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks and, well, dunno where I’ll be for a while,” Dean mumbled, deflated. All the humor seemed to dry up right then.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” Sam looked downright brokenhearted, and that killed Dean. They both knew about the pack traditions but spent most of their time avoiding discussing them.

Sam tried to be tough for his big brother, but he really couldn’t explain the irrational things he felt each time he thought of his brother being bonded to someone, a total stranger at that. The entire arranged pairing thing never sat well with him. On top of that, he was really hoping that Dean would be with him on his first hunting patrol.

Dean was more than dreading the upcoming arranged engagement. He was only ever comfortable around and let his guard down with Sam. He chalked it up to the fact that even though they had a pretty solid life with their family, pack, and allies, no one quite understood them. Those who knew them treated the boys with respect, but even they carried an air of caution around them.

 

~ ********** ~

 

Their parents had been proud and hopeful when Mary had sensed that Dean, and then Sam, would both be Alpha Lycans. John had worried that because he was human and Therians couldn’t turn humans, he’d somehow end up letting Mary down in the one department he couldn’t control. Mary simply joked that she had stronger, more stubborn genes. Then she’d let him know in no uncertain terms that even if their sons hadn’t been able to shift, she’d love them no less.

The first time Dean revealed his wolf, he was eight. Sam, precocious four-year-old that he was, was completely enraptured with this development and followed suit within months. Even with such accomplishment, he preferred his human form until he got older. He could be found more often than not romping in his human form with his “puppy” by his side for the next few years.

The Winchester boys grew up smart and strong. Dean, tall for his age, looked older than he was. Sam was constantly studying lore like his father, despite the challenges he gave John. He knew John took an active role in hunts and wanted to start training with Dean. He never seemed to remember there was a four-year gap between them.

Dean had fallen right into training for hunts and patrols with Mary and the Campbells. Shortly after he turned twelve, he’d been preparing to go on his first hunt to just observe when he began to feel feverish. Mary was concerned, but he insisted he was fine. He wasn’t going to miss out on his first patrol. She gave him some tea made from medicinal herbs with dinner to try to help stave off the fever and they were on their way.

While out in the field, the troupe had been tracking a couple of ghouls that had been spotted near some abandoned ruins in the area. It began as a standard track and kill. Dean was rapt with learning how to use all of his senses to track down the things that stalked the night. He’d been the one to catch their scents ahead of everyone else.

He knew to hang back and observe, watching how his family handled these creatures. As per the lore he studied, the ghouls were humanoid in shape. Having an ability to shade their true appearance, they appeared human from a distance to lure their victims in close. It was said they were able to take the form of their most recent victim. They normally run in packs, but the ones Dean saw were simply in a pair, possibly rogues looking for new territory.

He could see the forms of these two; hunched over, skin a grey pallor, patches of scraggly hair, and skeletal, hollow faces. Dean assumed they either hadn’t had anyone to eat in a while, or they weren’t even trying to disguise themselves. “Dude, they’re hideous,” he muttered, completely taken aback.

Mary looked at her son, confused. “What do you see, Dean?” As she inspected him more closely, she could see a fine sheen of sweat covering his face and neck. She quickly scented him and could tell something was wrong, but he waved her off.

“Mom, I’m alright. Now, unless the lore was wrong, I see their true forms. I just figured they were starving, or even being cocky. You can’t see them?” He suppressed a shudder as his mother watched him like a hawk. He knew his fever was rising and he was being stubborn, but he didn’t want to mess up the hunt while they were so close to finishing the job. He was hell-bent on holding out until he got home.

The hunters had made quick work of the monsters when an alert came through on their holo-form. Another small group of hunters was pinned down nearby. A pack of Werewolves had ambushed them from deep in the woods on the border between their two territories. They were Newblood, recently turned, reckless, and ravenous. Aside from a Sire, Werewolves were most lethal and strongest at that stage.

The rabid pack had gotten the drop on a group of Therians and their Ally as they’d been on their patrol, training their youngest member. They were from the neighboring territory to the North. The Harvelles, Will, Ellen, and their daughter Jo were with Robert Singer and Rufus Turner. Jo had just turned sixteen and was out on her first patrol. The Winchesters and Campbells knew the Harvelles and their partners. The small family was a pack of Ursinthropes, bear shifters. Rufus was a Cynanthrope. His form was a dog. Bobby was their Lorekeeper.

Dean’s family swooped in and stopped the creatures from harming Jo and Ellen, but Bobby and Rufus were injured, and William was dead. Jo was screaming and crying and that seemed to jolt something in Dean. He was enraged for his friend and with the stress of that and his fever, he suddenly shifted. All action halted as everyone on both sides of the fight looked in shock at the hugest Werewolf anyone had ever seen.

 

~ ********** ~

 

Dean had learned by experience why people were always walking on eggshells around him. Their parents had kept Dean quarantined for an entire month before they felt assured enough that he was not somehow bitten and turned. After that, they spent the next six years acclimating themselves and helping their surrounding territories understand. Dean was no unnatural creature. There were very distinct differences between John and Mary’s son and the creatures they hunt.

Werewolves are turned, not born. Only a Sire can procreate, and it is only once in its unnaturally long life when it needs an heir to become the next Sire. Werewolves cannot control their shifts, some unable to return to their human forms at all. They are primitive, bloodthirsty beasts with no inhibitions.

Dean’s Were form was a more powerful result of his father’s human DNA. He had no thirst for blood, and he kept his wits about him even that first night he shifted. His family had figured out this was just how his body responded to adolescence and presenting as an Alpha. Dean didn’t care. He was so ashamed that once he was able to control it, he did not show his Were form for years. When he was able, Dean returned to patrolling and eventually treated hunting as a way to prove himself.

He’d hoped that wouldn’t happen to Sam. Sam enjoyed being social with others, especially civilians. Then, six months after Sammy’s fourteenth birthday, he presented… intensely.

Sam was in the middle of his weapons test. He’d been studying how to use the tools of the trade and once he passed, he would have been cleared to go on his first observation. Dean had started teaching him to shoot, spar, and duel with swords, but he hadn’t yet done anything serious for fear of hurting his little brother. He’d promised, that once Sam presented, he would up the scale of their training.

Sam’s fever hit him, sudden and brutal. He vaguely remembered feeling as though he was on fire, being lost in a haze of pain, and seeing his teammates and instructor flee from him before he blacked out. When he woke up, he was at home, in quarantine. He found out later that he’d crushed a crossbow with his bare hands before repeatedly roaring out what sounded like ‘MATE’ and ‘MINE’ before he’d finally lost consciousness. He’d also shifted into his Were form just as Dean had done six years before.

There’d been no warnings, no symptoms throughout the day like Dean had. There was no intense stressor to catalyze Sam’s phase. It was inexplicable. It affected Sam in more ways than one. When his quarantine was over just under a month later, Dean was the only one Sam would even allow into the room.

“I’m a monster, Dean. The pack should just exile me and you –” Sam’s voice broke between tears, “you’re gonna be eighteen in a couple of months. You can get a mate, get bonded. You can live a real life.”

Dean took his baby brother’s tear-streaked face in his hands and made him look into his viridian depths, the hurt for Sam clear on his face. “You are no more a monster than me, baby boy. I hid behind my own stupid shame after I presented, I was wrong.” His expression changed to something deadly serious, eyes beginning to glow, “As for getting a mate, I’ll be choosing my own, bitch.”

Sam, his eyes like the sea calming after a storm, had a slew of emotions pass over his adorable, chipmunk cheeks. Fear and disappointment warred with confusion and dared hope. “Dean what… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, as far as living a ‘real’ life, how the hell do you possibly expect me to do that without you?” he implored with something more than brotherly love in his eyes. He watched as the realization dawned on his Sammy and the assurance came back to his face in that dimpled smile to which only he was privy.

“Jerk,” was all he could muster as he reached for Dean. It was their language of love exclusive to them alone. Even though Sam’s fever had broken, their embrace radiated heat. Sam breathed in the scent of his older brother, different now after being separated for nearly a month. At least that was his initial thought. The imprint of ‘MINE’ and ‘MATE’ suddenly rang through and all doubt ceased as he pressed small kisses into Dean’s neck.

 

 

He felt Dean melt into those feather-soft touches at his pulse and pushed further, moving slowly to trace his jawline and graze his chin. He was instinctively asking for permission, testing the boundaries and readiness of his mate.

Dean, never one to be submissive, tried to take over and turned his lips to meet Sam’s. Unaware of how or why, Sam growled low from deep within. Dean froze.

“Easy there, Tiger. Seems like your inner Alpha is still a bit hyped up. Let’s not forget who’s in charge here,” Dean said, chuckling and pointing to himself. “Older brother, remember? Now, you get some rest. You’re gonna be a lot busier from now on.”

Sam relented, only because he had shocked himself just as much as he had Dean and had no witty retort. Shows of dominance and aggressive possessiveness weren’t exactly his style. Despite all of that, and the fact that Dean was the one who had chosen Sam, he just knew one day he would be the one doing the claiming.

 


	3. ~ Enemy of My Enemy ~

 

“What gives you the right to continue to lurk in my domain, tempting my children and leading them to their doom? I gave you asylum from your Demon War, but that has long been over. The winged automatons are no longer an issue,” the brunette snapped as she strode toward the blonde.

“Relax, sister, and respect your elder. I once roamed this aging, twisted garden before you were created,” the blonde bragged.

“You mean before you were evicted for rejecting the owner’s son. You are no sister of mine. Simply being brought into existence by the same being doesn’t make us relatives. Besides, you are now something else entirely, Lilith.”

“Semantics, Eve. I have plans to claim my own throne, so you have nothing to worry about. Your _children_ are merely a distraction and a way to rebuild my storage of souls. I need to have something for Alistair to play with when we return home,” Lilith taunted in a warning tone. She knew Eve would back down, remembering her first impression of the demonic torturer. “And don’t be testy with me just because you put your faith in a misogynistic voyeur who was also a control freak. You are no better than me with your little forbidden fruit snafu.”

Eve glared at Lilith and stormed away. Demons were always the first to remind you of your past indiscretions and the last to learn their own lessons. She knew how to move on and make a life for herself, even being eternally banished to Purgatory, a once lush garden that rivaled Eden.

Lilith had been corrupted by Lucifer after her banishment from Eden. Turned into the first demon, she had a love/hate relationship -only Lilith didn't have the capacity for love, so she was more like a loyal dog- with the ruler of Hell. Eve had allowed no such control from anyone else. She left Eden with Adam and they found Purgatory. They started their family and became Pagan gods in their own right. They’d given up their mortality in the obsessive search for their sons when they’d gone missing.

Eve, the only one remaining once Adam had given up and faded away, created her creatures of the night to keep her essence alive for the day she’d known her sons would return to her. When Lilith showed her hand, having snatched trillions of Heaven’s souls before it was finally scorched, she arrived with Alistair, a red-head bursting with demonic purpose, and Cain, Eve’s eldest son. It was assumed that Eve had shown her ability to be non-judgmental by allowing Lilith to hide in Purgatory when she’d faked her death and Alistair’s as well. The true motivation was to reunite with Cain.

Lilith, the once favorite among the Hellions was quickly wearing both her welcome and Eve’s nerves thin. The demon in no way cared for nor understood the natural, simplistic ways of things in Purgatory. The problem was that Lilith was at several advantages with her power boost, an open doorway to purgatory, and her apparent partner, Alistair. He knew too many ways to hurt Eve’s children. She wondered what hold he had on Cain.

She could not wait until the demonic filth left with all of their delusions of grandeur.

On her way to her borough, she saw Alistair in deep discussion with his “generals,” Cain and Abaddon. The knights greatly contrasted each other. One, maintaining his humanity despite having an air of age about him that surpassed Alistair. She watched as Cain received his orders and left. The other, wild and reckless, had completely embraced her demonic form and had over time shown a desire to maybe obtain a “crown” of her own. Abaddon paced as she spoke while Alistair leaned against a tree, smirking.

“Ah, demons, only able to work together long enough to try to overthrow each other. It is their constant ruin,” Eve muttered to herself. She rushed off, finally seizing her opportunity to speak with her son.

 

~ ********** ~

 

Alistair kept Abaddon nearby, in the beginning, to assist with making examples of resistant creatures and for protection. He had Cain for gathering intel since he was the most convincing as a human. Abaddon had recently been showing some impatience with keeping Eve’s creatures in line. She wasn’t able to harm them past a bit of “minor” disciplining. She craved blood and chaos, chomping at the bit to make her presence known once again to humans.

Alistair was all set to be a cocky demon. He’d literally swiped a prophecy from the most powerful union in history while John Winchester and Mary Campbell slept. The ignorance of humans has led to his advantage. He would be able to take Purgatory for himself and rule it with the most powerful beings in existence. He simply needed to bide his time and keep Lilith thinking they would return to Hell and rule together.

He had no intention of ever returning to the trap Hell had been. And why share power when one could have it all? The Winchester children had a spectacular destiny together. All he needed to do was ensure that what he’d seen in the stolen little dream walk of Mary and John actually happened. Then he’d take everything from them, bit by agonizing bit, until their souls were stripped raw. They’d forget their humanity and become like the beasts they hunted. Without wills of their own, they would blindly follow Alistair to conquer Purgatory.

“Pride cometh before the fall, Abby,” the demon crooned in his raspy drawl. “Not to worry, after the couple of centuries we’ve spent in obscurity, the next decade will just fly by.”

“Suuure, _Ali-baby_ ,” she taunted back, noticing his hypocrisy. “I’ll just have to find alternative ways to entertain myself while _we_ wait. Demon I am, but I do have a measure of patience when I want something bad enough.” She sauntered away, alternate plans already running through her mind.

 

~ ********** ~

 

Eve caught up to Cain as he approached the portal. While it was invisible, it pulsed and distorted the atmosphere around it. That deformation was the only tell-tale sign there was anything out of the ordinary. It made the gateway to Purgatory easier to hide from prying eyes. Normally, there was no constantly open way into Eve’s territory. Her children only returned home to her after their time on earth was spent. It was a natural order, for the unnatural of course.

The Mother of All nearly allowed her mind to wander back to the first time she unleashed her children on the human realm. She knew many would become worshipped in their own right as gods and demigods.

When Cain paused and then stared at her, it snapped her back to the present. “I know you,” he said, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Of course you do. There is no span of time that could make you forget your mother.”

“Well if you are here, then you must know what I’ve become.”

“I can see it, mixed with your essence. This darkness that you battle has kept you alive all this time. What was the price of such magic?” she asked him, fearing she knew the answer.

“I tainted my soul. I killed my brother. I was marked, cursed for eternity.” The look of pain on his face was the only thing belying any emotion. “I found love and it kept me human. Now, they have her and I am at their service until I can find a way to get her back.”

Eve brought her cold, inhuman hand to cup Cain’s bearded face. “Oh my son, the burdens you carry.” She could no longer feel the same emotions as when she’d been human, so her grief for Abel was brief. She lived in the moment and with Cain here, flesh and bone and yet immortal, she focused on him being present. She also realized the potential she literally had in hand to clear her home of the demons.

She would ensure her first born and last remaining son’s freedom from Lilith’s, and Hell’s, clutches.

 

~ ********** ~

 

Abaddon was tired of following orders, but she knew she would need to for just a bit longer if she was ever going to find the one at fault for why she was stuck in Purgatory. When Alistair said “we” and “centuries in obscurity” he seemed to forget that she was not part of that collective. He’d found her about twenty-five years ago and promised to help her find the hunter who had escaped her and trapped her in this time. Prior to that, she’d been unabashedly creating havoc without shame or inhibition for centuries.

She’d been stalking Henry Winchester for years, this Lorekeeper who thought he knew everything because he stuck his face in books all the time. She’d underestimated him, though. Turns out, he wasn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty or to make hard choices. When he used the _vocationem sanguis,_ or Blood Call, in an attempt to evade her, he left behind his wife and young son.

The frustrating twist in that little trick was she’d had hold of him when he activated it, pulling her into the quantum leap also. He’d actually shocked her, and that momentary hesitation allowed him to slip from her grasp. She was rejected from the warp early and landed twenty-five years before him. She’d been watching the Winchester name ever since, growing increasingly vengeful. No one escaped a Knight of Hell unscathed.

The problem with demons making promises is they tend to “forget” them in lieu of their own ambitions. They aren’t like deals made with contracts signed in blood. Abaddon realized that she’d have to bide her time and take her search into her own hands. She was lucky that Cain had vouched for her. He remembered his protégé from centuries ago and knew she’d be useful. She knew ancient magic and it had been her idea to target the Winchester line. Just, not for the same reasons Alistair had.

Of course, Abaddon assumed Cain had his own motive for having her brought in. She’d broken ties with him when she’d rid him of his human distraction, Collette. She’d possessed and broken her vessel, stealing the soul inside and trading it to Lilith. She had all but forgotten what she’d obtained from that bargain, so long ago. She often wondered if Lilith was somehow still holding Cain’s human pet ransom.

Her mind snapped back to the present. She’d just remembered how she’d eventually tracked Cain after his ‘retirement’. He’d been hiding out on a ship in the middle of the ocean, completely isolated from the world. No one had entertained the thought that he was not on land, and that was the very reason no amount of scrying or tracking seemed to work.

“Oh-ho-ho, Henry, I think I just figured you out.”

 


	4. ~ Call to Hope ~

 

Henry Winchester was no stranger to the occult and supernatural creatures. He’d studied as a Legacy all of his life. He’d also trained with Hunters for a short time before finding them to be distrustful of everyone who wasn’t directly related to them. It was so frustrating to hand out an olive branch and try to teach them more than just what was needed at that moment to kill whatever thing they had a grudge against, only to be accused of being a simple librarian.

Despite that, he had proven himself worthy in more than enough skirmishes with Hellions and OtherKin before he found himself having to make the hardest decision of his life. He’d gotten the attention of a Knight of Hell and there was no way to stop her. He was sure that this thing that seemed to love destruction would not stop with killing him. She would eliminate his family, despite how innocent they were.

He was also certain she would have annihilated Lorekeepers and any and all knowledge of the supernatural in order to put humans back into a place of ignorance and disbelief. He had only one option. He told his wife he was going to assist on a hunt, he hugged and kissed her and their son goodbye. Millie never wanted to know more than necessary about the life, and John, well she’d shielded him from it as long as she possibly could. Once he began to get curious, Henry never could hide anything.

He is extremely glad the boy took to his studies so well. As the Hellion closed in on where he was hiding, he realized that he placed all his hopes upon that. He focused on completing the symbol for the spell, and he prayed to the mighty huntress Artemis that he would reach a full-grown John who may know something new about Knights of Hell.

“Henry, it’s been fun finally putting a face to the legendary name,” the she-demon taunted, “and it is rather impressive that you have evaded me this long. But you should know you are just pissing me off and making me think of more ways to torture you before I kill you. If you make me wait too long, I may just go pay your precious son a visit, make him gut his mommy while she’s frozen on the floor.”

She exploded the door to the room where he’d taken his final stand. She spotted him across the room as the dust and debris settled. She crossed the distance in what seemed like an instant and hoisted him off the ground by his throat.

“Funny,” Henry rasped, “you know my name, you know about my family, but all I know about you is what you are. Care to introduce yourself?”

“Aww, you want a last request, how pathetically human. Name’s Abaddon, and I am going to singlehandedly destroy you pitiful, weak creatures.”

Before she could crush his trachea, he smashed a mason jar of holy water against the side of her head. As she cried out and cringed in pain, she let him go. The glare she gave him with her steely, black eyes nearly stopped his heart. The distraction gave him just long enough to slice his hand, activate the Blood Call symbol on the wall, and grab hold of her.

“Not so weak and pitiful, huh? You won’t be going anywhere near _my_ little boy, hellspawn,” Henry said as he gritted his teeth, pulled with all his might, and fell through the portal in the wall.

 

~ ********** ~

 

_Forty-Three Years Later…_

 

Sam, at fifteen, was no longer the shrimp his big brother teased him to be. He was beginning to have growth spurts that, for the time, merely ensured he’d have a new nickname. He’d nearly caught up with Dean in height but still hadn’t been able to match him in mass. It was something that distracted him often. His brother could always tell when Sam’s mind was wandering. If the subject wasn’t the evolution of their relationship, it was this obsession with his physical stature.

“Don’t worry, Sammy, the way you eat, you’re bound to gain muscle in no time. Besides, you’re still pretty to me, baby boy.”

Sam groaned, even as he blushed. “Dean, how about you not start what we can’t finish here, yeah?”

“All right, all right, Beanpole. Let’s finish up training and we can go home.”

Later, when they were settled in at home, they shuttered themselves in Sam’s room under the guise of studying. It had been like this for nearly a year, ever since Dean told Sam how he felt and Sam admitted he’d felt the same. Every spare moment they had the boys were desperately clingy. This night was not much different. They embraced each other, whispered words they’d never admit to in public, and over time their kisses morphed into fiery, passionate explorations of lips, tongues, and fingertips on shivering skin.

It was often maddening to have to hide all the time, but also invigorating to have the secret be just theirs. At fifteen and nineteen, the two were insatiable and it led to some creative times spent together. Their parents nearly separated them for good on patrols after the time they’d run off together. It had scared John and Mary to death. “We try to understand what it’s like for the two of you. You have no one else but each other because so far, no other Therian-Human hybrids have been discovered. But you boys need to be more diligent on patrol. You can’t just break ranks because you think it is an easy night. Anything can happen,” Mary admonished. “If you can’t be more responsible together, you’ll be patrolling separately from now on.” The boys were extra careful after that.

Dean often thought of the day Sam had finally come out of the quarantine room. He’d been bitchy because he had sweat through everything. He hadn’t bathed the entire time because he’d learned the hard way the first time that it was a waste of water and good soap. He would just end up drenched in a feverish sweat all over again within an hour. When he’d finally broken the fever completely, he’d headed straight to the bathroom grumbling about never wanting to hear any smart-ass comments about being “in a funk” as long as he lived.

 

_About a year ago..._

 

_Dean knocked on the bathroom door before letting himself in. He hadn’t seen Sam for days after that first kiss, and he’d wanted, **needed** , to know things between them were not just due to Sam being so emotional. He found Sam leaning against the sink with a towel around his slim waist, pinching the bridge of his nose._

_He’d walked over to the bathtub and ran the water, adding some soothing salts and a bit of soap for bubbles. The copper marvel had been a hand-crafted, vintage wedding gift from the pack for their parents for its many natural properties. It had curved sides with a trapezoidal profile. It was large enough for two adults, but still cozy, and set into a rough, pale, granite nook under a tiled archway. The room quickly steamed up and smelled of jasmine and roses. Dean knew those were the types of frilly fragrances that calmed his brother._

_He’d placed his hands upon Sam’s shoulders and gently pushed him toward the tub. “C’mon, Sammy, get in. You’ll feel better. I’ll take care of you.” Sam started to move, then paused to mumble, “Come with me?” It was so tentative, so unsure, Dean thought he’d dreamt the words. He nodded and proceeded to undress._

_The act itself was nothing new to them, but the sentiment of it now was unlike any time before. They’d grown from babies together, constantly orbiting each other. They’d run as wolves under the full moon and laid out naked after sparring and bathing under the sun. This, however, was a confirmation of the direction they’d wanted to take their lives, together._

_Once Sam and Dean were settled in the warm water -the elder’s bowed legs framing the younger- Sam leaned back against the other’s firm, defined warmth, closed his eyes, and took a deep, cleansing breath. He’d only opened them when he felt Dean’s fingertips on his chest near his collar bone. “You have a mark too,” Dean whispered in awe._

_“Too? What do you mean?” Dean reached over to the bathroom counter grabbing a handheld mirror. He turned it upon them, showing their reflections and a matching mark in the same area that Sam had his mark, right over his heart._

_“Wow, did yours show up when you presented?” Sam sounded tired, physically and emotionally drained. Their gazes met in the mirror, mercurial blue-green-gold sparring with virescent bronze-green. Dean warmed his free hand in the steaming water before bringing it up and placing it over Sam’s heart. He watched his younger brother’s pupils dilate as he slid his hand up his throat to hold his jaw, tilting his head and exposing the tender skin of his neck. He stared back; his own eyes now black pools ringed with bright, mischievous green._

_“It ached like hell, felt like it was incomplete,” he murmured, bringing his lips ever so lightly in contact with smooth, taut skin. “I couldn’t figure out why it felt so hollow… until you presented.” He wet his lips, pink and plump, dragging the bottom one up to Sam’s earlobe. He gently tugged the steam-heated flesh between his teeth and lightly nipped it._

_“I knew we belonged to each other when that happened. I had a feeling you knew before I did.” He ran his tongue over the shell of Sam's ear and then worked his way back down, all the while staring his little brother down, challenging him to look away._

_Sam shivered, his breaths gradually hastening. He began to squirm, feeling the stirring in both his loins and his big brother’s manhood. Each could feel the rushing pulse of the other’s blood through their veins. “Dean, please, I need… Gods, please put the mirror down and touch me,” he gasped out, finally letting his eyes roll back and his lashes flutter closed._

_Smirking, Dean returned the mirror to the countertop and with cool, dry fingertips he traced the curvature of Sam’s face, running his fingers across his lips. He gently tilted his chin up and back and brought their lips together. He was already sliding his other hand down Sam’s chest and abs, thin and lightly toned with the quivering foundations of sinewy muscle. As the kiss grew more heated, Dean let the hand on Sam’s chin float down to gently squeeze a nipple between his chilled fingers._

_Sam’s arms, pinned tightly to his sides by Dean’s firm hold, finally began to flex as he figured out his hands were resting on Dean’s powerfully muscled thighs. He kept himself from floating away and losing his mind by clutching and squeezing them as he parted his own coltish legs, knobby knees just breaking the bubbly surface. He sank further into his brother’s embrace when he felt a tentative hand close around his rigid girth and begin a slow stroke._

_Dean kept the pace of his strokes even. He didn’t want to flood the bathroom and have a mess to explain later. Eventually, he varied his grip and the way he moved his hand as he explored everything that drew the most timid, sweet, and sinful noises from Sam._

_Sam could feel the sensations building deep inside beneath his belly, pulsating and trying to take him over the edge. He knew Dean was doing all this for him, but he didn’t want to experience that freefall alone. He reached one arm behind himself and latched on to Dean’s throbbing erection. He pistoned his forearm as he flexed his wrist and the warm water helped ease the slide. Dean gasped and lost his careful rhythm for a moment, and Sam took advantage. He turned himself over, sloshing a good deal of sudsy water onto the floor._

_Still slotted between Dean’s legs, Sam pushed his knees up and apart, sliding his own knees underneath his big brother’s thighs. With Dean spread out across his lap, grasping the rim of the bathtub with his hands and his little brother hovering over him, Sam aligned their submerged, tumescent lengths and wrapped a hand around them. His long, slender fingers were no match for their combined girths; even at Sam’s age, he’d been impressively blessed._

_Dean stopped fighting for leverage and joined one of his hands with Sam’s. Together, they continued stroking each other, each with their free hand on the other’s mark, over their hearts. There was nothing in the world at that moment aside from them, their low whimpers and grunts, and the subtle sound of the water moving. As warm as the water still was, their bodies seemed to heat even further as they crested wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure._

_As they calmed down, Sam had slumped forward leaning into Dean’s shoulder. They’d sat there for a few moments just wrapped in each other’s warmth. Then, Dean said, “I hope you’re feeling better, Sammy, ‘cause we can’t marinate in each other’s jizz all night.” Sam pulled the release on the drain before he retorted, “Ugh, way to lay on the charm, jerk.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, just start the hot water, bitch._

 

 

 

_Now…_

 

Both boys knew how lucky they were; their parents had decided to hold off on arranging an engagement and bonding for Dean when Sam presented. After helping Dean go through his process alone, they’d agreed that it would benefit both their sons -not to mention the entire pack- if Dean could be there to support Sam. His experience was the only thing that they’d had to reference, and although Sam’s presenting had been slightly different, he seemed to get through it and adapt better with Dean there.

They never took their time together for granted. They knew one day the subject of arranged bonding would be brought up again, and without having a valid reason to avoid it, the boys would be forced apart. Sam wanted to tell their parents, but Dean sat him down and explained why that wouldn’t help them.

“Sammy, the whole point of arranged bonding is to match up pairs that would produce offspring with the best potential,” he explained, wistful. “Neither of us can bear young, we would have to be wed to someone who can. There is also the matter of bringing together certain families to expand knowledge and power so that we can keep protecting our lands.”

“But where does that leave us, Dean? Even if I wanted to bond with anyone else, who would want the two of us? It wouldn’t be a love match like Mom and Dad, it would only be a political power grab because they know how strong we are. Yet, they barely trust us, and that is only other Therian groups. Civilians merely tolerate us because we keep monsters from terrorizing them.”

“Well unless that big brain of yours can figure out how to get knocked up, we may not have a choice.”

“I like how you keep thinking _I_ will be the one in that position.”

 

~ ********** ~

 

By ages seventeen and twenty-one, Sam and Dean Winchester were, in equal measure, reputed as two of the best hunters in the country and warily viewed as something else. People knew better than to bring up the latter to the boys or their family directly. John was more defensive about it than anyone and despite him being human, without any enhanced powers or senses, he was the one to fear if anyone messed with his boys.

He’d overheard one too many “debates” over whether or not his sons had been bitten and turned. He’d spent nearly a decade of trying to explain to people outside of their immediate family and friends that Dean -and then later Sam- weren’t anything like the Werewolves of their nightmares. Other hunter families were understanding enough. After all, they’d seen enough to know on sight alone that Werewolves had nothing in common with the kids.

The Harvelles were the most understanding, having been witnesses the night Dean presented and also having an adopted True Lycan of their own. That was the term they’d used to distinguish Ash from the same stigma. No one had known what to expect when he’d presented either, especially since his entire family had been annihilated by Hellions. They’d found out he was Lycan when his wolf kicked in at ten years of age, then he’d presented the week before Dean had.

They’d kept him pretty well hidden between quarantine and him just keeping to himself, so no one knew that there had already been someone like the Winchester boys. At sixteen, Ash had decided to head out on his own to see if he could find more information on True Lycans like him and the Winchesters. He still had yet to return. Jo missed her adopted brother, and the boys missed their friend.

Mary, already used to the ignorance and misunderstandings from Civilians, had merely chosen to prepare her babies to adjust to a world that would understand them even less than typical Therians. Her goals were to train the boys to control their shifts, so they were not susceptible to unexpectedly shifting into either form, and to make them indispensable as protectors of their territories.

As their successes during patrols and hunts increased, their reputations spread. So did the list of potential families wanting to make bonding arrangements. It would not be long before John and Mary would have to comply with the laws and with the pack. Eventually, there would be an offer they’d have to be hard pressed not to accept.

 


	5. ~ Blood to Blood ~

 

Henry hit the ground, hard. He rolled into a seated position and when he could finally focus his vision, he realized he was in a wooded area, alone. He panicked, thinking he hadn’t successfully taken the Hellion into the portal. He instantly worried for John and Millie.

He was shaken from his frantic thoughts by a howl nearby, followed by an immediate reply. He hid in some thick brush knowing he’d be no match for a pack of wolves, or _anything_ worse. After a few moments, he heard rustling ahead, and then a deathly pale man burst into the clearing at an unnatural speed. He jumped and landed high in a tree several feet away, wielding fangs and facing the direction the howls were coming from.

 _‘Vampire!’_ he thought to himself. Then, two gigantic wolves bounded into the clearing, sniffing and growling as they searched for their prey. Upon locating it in the branches, their bodies shifted, and they stood up on their hind legs. They looked like Werewolves. They leapt into the trees, swiping through the branches with their razor-sharp claws. One latched onto the Vamp, dragging it from the safety of the treetops. When it hit the ground, they wasted no time ripping the creature to shreds.

 _‘What would Werewolves want with a Vampire? These aren’t the same creatures I’ve seen on hunts,’_ Henry thought in silent shock as he sat out of sight. He watched as the two howled their victory in unison and then shifted once again. Where before there were two strange creatures, now there stood two young men, one looking barely out of his teens. Even though they were stark-naked and covered in blood, they embraced each other as if they were dying.

When they finally stepped apart, the taller one tensed up, sniffed the air, and growled. Both boys then looked directly toward Henry’s hiding spot. The shorter one took a protective stance in front of his companion. Henry could see duplicate marks on the left side of each of their chests. It reminded him of a sigil he’d seen in the lore books he used to study.

He could tell there was no way he was getting away from them, so he slowly crept out with his hands raised to show he wasn’t armed. He kept enough distance to not make them defensive, but when they hadn’t attacked, he figured he was safe for now. He was desperate to locate John.

After a tense moment, the boy in front asked, “What the hell are you doing out here? Don’t you know this is prime dinner time for OtherKin? Are you looking to get eaten, or worse?”

“Wait, D. He’s not from anywhere near here. Look at his clothes,” the taller boy tried to whisper, though Henry heard him. He could see them more clearly and this boy, with hair unruly despite being plastered to his head with drying blood, was likely the younger of the pair. He also had a more dangerous aura about him, as if his mild demeanor was something just on the surface. Henry caught on quickly that “D” was not just protecting his partner, he was keeping the young man from Henry.

“Speaking of clothes, young man, I suggest you two put some on and maybe clean up. I am looking for John Winchester. It is imperative that I find him. Do you know him? IS HE ALIVE?” demanded Henry.

The young men froze and exchanged looks. “What do you want with our father?” asked “D”.

Henry gasped.

 

~ ********** ~

 

“Your names are Sam and Dean… Winchester?” He studied them, finally dressed and cleaned as much as they could be out in the woods. He could see his young son John in their youthful, focused, intense gazes. Sam, the younger one held an especially stubborn and inquisitive air about him that had to have been from John. Dean had John’s ability to keep a cool and collected facade no matter what was happening.

Dean had been the one to introduce them. He hadn’t the slightest worry that he and Sam could have made sure Henry never left that clearing if the man even hinted that he meant their family harm. They calmed a bit when they saw his reaction to their identities, the way he scrutinized them with curiosity and awe as opposed to fear. Henry told them everything, knowing if they resembled his son this much, he wouldn’t be able to hide a damn thing from them for very long anyway.

“So, you are our grandfather. You’ve got some impossible-to-kill Hell-bitch on your tail and you lost her. Now, you want to just follow us home like a stray puppy?

“Are you trying to lead Abaddon right to your family? You have no idea if she is tracking you right now.”

“No, of course not. I simply wanted my son to know that he was never abandoned and certainly not forgotten. I also was hoping he’d have turned out like me, or even greater. Maybe the future would have ways of dealing with a Knight of Hell.”

Sam looked at Dean, then at the ground. “He’s in Lunar Sleep. He was nearly taken out while on patrol a few weeks ago and this was the only option to save him. Maybe that is why you found us and not him.”

“Plus, there hasn’t been a Hellion sighting since before we were born,” said Dean. “There are theories, though. Someone or something had to have opened Purgatory from the outside to let the OtherKin loose at the rate they have been appearing for the last forty years or so.”

Henry looked distraught as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. His son may never regain consciousness and it seemed that there were no new developments that could help him against Abaddon. She definitely would never stop stalking him. He would need to leave his family behind once again to keep her away from them.

Then, his expression morphed into one of wistful hope. _‘I may not know where she is, but I know where she isn’t. I’ve got grandsons, which means John grew up and lived a full life. He’d apparently kept the Winchester name from disappearing into obscurity and successfully helped unite Hunters and Allies even further than just tense partnerships. These boys are proof of that,’_ he thought.

“You two young men are a testament to how well things have already gone. Because of you, I know your father remained safe all these years. You are Legacies. You have knowledge of both Lore like Allies and the innate skills and attributes of Hunters. You represent an entirely new generation,” he said, smiling. “You're also Winchesters. As long as we're alive there's hope. I may not know my son as a man, but having met you two, I know I would be proud of him.”

Dean grinned, bashful from praise he was unaccustomed to receiving from anyone but Sam and their parents. Sam seemed even more surprised to be getting such an appraisal, as he gave a shy huff, smiled, and nodded in respect. After a moment of comfortable silence, Sam seemed to make up his mind. “Dean, he has to at least see him. Maybe… maybe we can sneak him in. We’ll be able to tell if anyone else follows us home. What if we’d lost Dad that way?”

Dean looked apprehensive, but he eventually nodded in agreement. Henry was extremely grateful.

On the walk back toward home, the boys told Henry about their lives as kids and then as Hunters. The eldest Winchester could tell there was something they were holding close to the vest, but he decided not to push. He knew that whatever it was, it was something between the boys and he’d have had to have been here a lot longer for them to trust him with it.

He’d found out Sam was close to his eighteenth birthday and Dean had turned twenty-one earlier in the year. They had few friends, all involved in hunting on some level. He’d also found out how rare his grandsons were, being two of only three known True Lycans, as they called themselves. They told him about Ash and how he’d left, and that they envied him for it. He was shocked to hear the boys’ trepidations about soon having to be bonded. Dean was apparently already considered late but given their circumstances, Henry could understand the postponing.

As they approached their village, Dean told Sam to take Henry around to the rear of their house while he went through the front and made sure the coast was clear. It was superior instincts or just dumb luck at work. Dean ran right into his mother.

“Dean,” she called out, exhaling his name like a prayer, “thank Artemis I found you.” Dean instantly grew worried. “What’s wrong, is Dad ok?”

Mary paused, thoughts temporarily derailed, then shook her head. “Of course, sweetheart, your father… well, there hasn’t been any change. You and Sam disappeared so quickly after dinner I never had time to introduce you to Cassie and her parents. The Robinsons were supposed to be here for dinner, but got held up on an unexpected hunt.”

Dean tried to control his features, but he couldn’t quite gain control of the anxiety in his voice. “Mom, what’s going on?” Mary, expecting this reaction, attempted to calm Dean so that she could explain everything.

“Dean, while John is down, your grandfather is back on his mission to get you boys matched with some of the best-known Hunter families around.” At her oldest son’s look of shocked betrayal, Mary continued, “I convinced him we simply need Allies to take up the slack. I also told him there were far more important things going on than matters of tradition.”

Dean visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Besides,” she said, hoping to get his goat just a little, “you might just like Cassie, who knows?” She grinned as she ruffled his hair, melting the vexation in his stare. “Listen, your father and I have taken both your concerns and Sam’s to heart. Arranged bonding may have worked well for us, but we are dealing with new circumstances now. We understand.”

Dean nodded letting a tiny smile loose. “I know. All right, then I guess I’ll go say goodnight to Dad and head to bed.”

“You and Sam should both get some rest. You’ve been patrolling non-stop lately. Where is your brother by the way? He should be made aware, so he doesn’t overreact.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him. He went to get cleaned up. Things got pretty messy tonight with that Vamp.”

 

~ ********** ~

 

Dean caught up to Sam and Henry just as their grandfather had finished saying everything he possibly could to their father. He was shedding tears that fell heavy and immodest from red, swollen eyes. The man was an open wound. For a moment, Dean forgot about his mother’s announcement.

Then, he looked at his brother. Untamed, chestnut waves, intense, multi-hued eyes, broad shoulders, and dense muscles that had finally filled out, Sam was overwhelmingly beautiful. Under happier circumstances, he was even more striking when he smiled. To see him sharing Henry’s pain made Dean’s heart sink. He wanted so badly to comfort him, to wrap him in his arms, look up -because that’s what he did now- into those brilliant eyes, and kiss the pain and worry from his features.

It was at that moment, looking at three generations of Winchester men, that Dean remembered what Mary had told him. He knew no matter what he told Sammy the kid would be devastated. He also remembered the story Henry had told them, about making the impossible decision to give his family up in order to keep them safe. If their father didn’t mysteriously recover soon, and this partnership with the Robinsons morphed into his biggest fear, Dean knew he would be following in Henry’s footsteps.

 


	6. ~ Running Out of Time ~

 

The boys gave it a gods-honest try. Honestly, had it not been for Samuel’s insistence to uphold Pack Law and sheer will to live until it was upheld, the Ally partnership with Cassie’s family would have been a great collaboration. It had been discovered that they just happened to be close friends with the Campbell’s Allies, Frank Baum, his daughter Dorothy, and his goddaughter, Charlene Bradbury. At nineteen and seventeen respectively, the girls had intelligence beyond any of their predecessors.

Dorothy was a resourceful genius and researcher and had a promising future as an archaeologist and historian. She had accompanied her father on architectural digs as a young child and now she specialized in finding old tomes and historical artifacts that increased Lorekeepers’ knowledge of ancient magic. After Charlie’s parents died, she’d followed her godfather’s footsteps as a mechanical and technological phenom. She was the reason that packs, prides, and tribes all across the country had some of the new age weaponry available to them. She’d helped upgrade and network the holoform systems.

Upon meeting Cassie Robinson and her parents, Sam and Dean both respected the family’s knowledge and mission to expand it. Cassie, taking after her father, was an amazing recordkeeper and writer and had a critical eye and talent for digging through myths to find the truth. She also had a knack for restoring written works, which was a project she was currently working on. The Robinsons would be as great a resource to the Winchesters as the Baums were to the Campbells.

After a few days of resting and hiding out, Henry decided he could do best for everyone by trying to find a way to awaken his son. Sam had broken the news that Henry’s wife had passed not long after John had found his place with Mary and the Campbells. Henry had nothing else for which he needed to stick around close.

He also wanted to make sure he didn’t disturb the balance within the Campbell pack or inadvertently bring Abaddon there. He’d asked the boys to keep in touch but advised them they had been right and smart to be wary about him staying. No one else needed to know he was there, at least not until John awakened, or Henry had a breakthrough.

The plan had been to reach the coast and find a way overseas. There had to be all kinds of remedies, magical or medicinal, that could be found in other countries. He also wanted to find out if there was still a network of International Lorekeepers. With the boys’ help, he’d created a fake holo-message requesting supplies from one of the Civilian territories just on the edge of the pack’s territory to be able to have Sam and Dean escort him west to the coastline. He was counting on them using this time to decompress after having heard about their upcoming partnership.

Henry was no idiot; he could clearly see that Sam and Dean had problems forming new friendships. He thought the reason was due to the Hunter blood in them and that it was strengthened by their uniqueness. They truly only had each other to relate to as far as they knew. Their patrols often took them farther than their cousins, only John had been as diverse in his travels while he’d been in Militia. So, they’d met other Therians, but so far none like themselves.

The time arrived when they were set to leave, but before the small group disembarked, a vibrant, red-haired, young lady came speeding toward them in a frenzy as Sam and Dean packed their gear. She was followed not long after by a sauntering, calm woman with long, thick ebony waves. The redhead didn’t wait for introductions.

“Before you say anything, we’re coming with you and we’re using the maps Uncle Frank made,” said the fiery teen, stomping her foot as she blocked the boys’ path. “Also, before you tell me no, I know where that holo-message originated.”

“Crap. Charlie, we thought you’d have been out with Jo and Ellen. What’s the matter? Bobby and Pastor Jim not keeping you girls busy enough on patrol?” Dean could never help pestering the girl who was like a little sister he never wanted.

“Dean Winchester, you should count yourself lucky that Charlie intercepted that transmission before Frank got to it,” the strangely intriguing brunette admonished. “And tell your hot grandpa to stop eyeing my rack. At least get my name first.”

Sam looked like he was going to jump out of his skin. “W-what?!”

“Don’t freak out kiddo, it causes wrinkles in that pretty brow of yours. Psychic, remember? Pamela Barnes, and I am _very_ pleased to make your acquaintance, traveler out of time.”

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” the newcomer said, smiling while he took Pamela’s hand and kissed the back of it. He glanced up through his lashes at her. Henry Winchester, at your service… Would that be ‘Miss’ Barnes?”

“Haven’t been a ‘Miss’ in a good, long time, but I’m currently unbound if you know what I mean,” Pamela said smiling at the familiar Winchester charm.

“Alright, alright. Cool it down people. Pam, Charlie, since I’m not overly fond of extortion, if you have gear ready then I guess you can come along. When we take a rest stop in Cuevas territory, their team can escort you home. Final offer. But Charlie, I will have none of your pining,” Dean said, sending the girl a knowing look. “Yeah, I know some dirt too. And Pam, c’mon, your old man isn’t even cold in his grave.”

Charlie pouted while Pamela’s smile stayed, her attention on Henry. “I’ll behave, if you will, grumpy.” Henry nodded and laughed, and the boys noticed that was the first time he’d done either since he saw John.

 

~ ********** ~

 

During their trek west, things went smoothly. The boys were in wolf form for speed while they traveled, Dean carrying Henry with their packs and Sam carrying Charlie and Pam. Each time they came to a stop, the boys shifted to their human forms to check out the area. They would leave their charges to set up camp while they patrolled a small perimeter. They also took advantage of the time to themselves.

They had traveled for three days and two nights the first time the group stopped to take a break. It wasn’t the longest that Sam and Dean had spent without their hands on each other, but that was also not counting the time that Henry had stayed with them. When they split up to make sure the area was safe, they each ran around a decent-sized radius. Both knew when they met up to complete the circuit, they would be well out of hearing range of the rest of the group.

At first, they simply rolled around, romped, and wrestled in their wolf forms. They just needed the contact with each other, and it was a way to burn off some of the stress they’d felt the past few days. Each could sense the other’s nervous arousal, just brewing under the surface. It wasn’t until Sam flipped Dean and hovered over him, caging him in a playful yet possessive way, that things began to escalate.

The younger wolf made a rumbling sound deep within his chest, something closer to a purr than the booming growl he was akin to when there was danger lurking. This was a signature move of Sam’s in a play for dominance and normally, Dean would only humor him so far. Tonight, however, being away from their regular territory and patrols had given them a sense of freedom they hadn’t felt in a while. Plus, who knew how much longer they’d be able to get away like this if they didn’t figure out a way to be together without losing everything else?

Dean knew he could still best Sam, size be damned. He just didn’t want to tonight. Instead of nipping Sammy’s throat as a distraction, he gave the pup a quick lick on his muzzle and then bared his own throat in submission. This surprised Sam enough that he jumped back and off his brother. Dean had never done that before, no matter how many boundaries he’d allowed him to push before.

There Sam sat, in the small clearing they’d found in the woods, head tilted and looking more cub than the enormous wolf he was. The full trees and flowering shrubs creating a dense barrier from the rest of the world; fireflies their only witnesses. Dean huffed and rose to his paws. He shifted to his human form and said, “Seriously? Dude, how many times have you tried to mount my ass in the last four years? I literally lay it out for you and you flinch? Who knew reverse psychology would be your Achilles’ Heel.”

In a flash, Sam shifted and had Dean pinned against a tree, effectively shutting up his big brother. Their skin-to-skin contact immediately caused their marks to heat and glow. The fine sheen of sweat easing the friction between them. Both were instantly hard and wanting. When Sam finally let up, he looked at Dean through the gold haze of his sudden spike in arousal. “Yes? For sure? You need to be sure. Even if it means we can’t return home. I won’t do a damn thing -no matter how bad I want to- until I know you are sure.”

“Aww, c’mon Sammy, I wasn’t trying to make a big deal of it or anything.” He could see into Sam, fighting to not allow his primal urge to take over, but already the intensity of the gold in his eyes waning from the expectation of disappointment. He saw his brother look away.

“Hey, relax. I’m not saying I’m not sure. I mean, I don’t exactly think the idea of you being ‘in charge’ so to speak, is exactly normal. I’m still workin’ that out with my pride. But honestly, when will we get time like this again? I don’t want to lose our family, our pack, but I **can’t** lose you.”

Sam heard the last part as a near whisper and looked up to Dean biting his lip. He was focused on the grass at his feet as if it were the answer to the mystery of life itself. Sam reached out to his brother, his lifeline. Cupping his hand around the back of his neck, Sam drew him closer until their foreheads met. As he looked down into pools of liquid emerald, he breathed out, “You’ll never lose me, but I won’t claim you until we can do it freely… and you ask me to.”

 

 

Dean breathed in his brother’s promise, somehow feeling lighter and freer. He smiled up at Sam through his impossibly long lashes. “So, this mean we can get back to our swordfight?”

That broke the remaining tension and the dam holding Sam’s precious laughter and dimples at bay.

 

~ ********** ~

 

The handful of other times the group stopped, the boys again took advantage of the vast and varied wilderness and opportune peace. There were no monsters or Hellions either by choice, design, or just plain luck. That did not mean they were never watched, though. After the first time the boys took so long scouting out their surroundings while the rest set up camp, Charlie decided to put her tech to effective use. She’d placed a tracer device on Sam the last time he carried her.

He’d always been the easier one of the brothers to get close to, despite the pseudo-sibling bond she’d developed with Dean. The older man always seemed to sniff out her nosy plots. She couldn’t help it if she was inquisitive and he and Sam were so secretive about themselves. Even though she’d seen each of them in their True Lycan forms, she felt no fear. In fact, she thought they were beautiful that way. So, to her logic, their boundaries were irrational.

She was determined to get them to open up to her, even if she had to resort to spying and extortion. Sam and Dean Winchester were the reasons she came out of her shell after her parents died. After that, her life completely changed. Was it perfect? Not by a long shot, but she had a reason to live now and they helped her discover it.

All she’d needed to do was get her head out of her ass and tell Dorothy how she felt. She had been terrified of messing up her relationship with her God-sister, but Dean had said feelings _that_ scary were worth fighting for. He’d been right, and now she and Dorothy were closer and happier than ever.

The night she tracked Sam, she watched as he and Dean came together from separate directions. She couldn’t believe how far they were from camp. She saw the huge wolves wrestling like puppies and smiled fondly at them, trying not to laugh at their antics. She couldn’t believe that they hadn’t heard or scented her by now. Then, she watched as they shifted and she’d finally been able to piece together the puzzle of why the boys were so distant with everyone... and so close to each other.

 


	7. ~ Change of Plans ~

 

When they’d finally arrived, Sam was the first to notice that they’d entered the territory of Jesse and Cesar Cuevas. Dean had his figurative hands full with a chatty Charlie, a flirty Pamela, and an extremely receptive Henry. Sam grasped his brother’s shoulder and squeezed, a gesture meant to both calm and get his attention. Dean followed him a few feet away, grousing under his breath about all the lovey-dovey crap on his watch was not what he signed up for.

“Don’t worry Dean, another day or so and they’ll be off giggling and gossiping with Krissy and Portia… Actually, it might be less. I think Cesar got my message.”

Sam tilted his head up toward a large branch just a few feet behind Dean. The svelte, tawny, dappled form of Cesar Cuevas lounged above them. He looked quite smug to have arrived without notice. He was, as most Therians, much larger than his true animal counterpart. His mate, Jesse had to be somewhere close. Being the only felines in their territory meant there was no one to tell them who to bond with.

Uncharacteristically, they’d also adopted a family of Cynanthropes and a Wiccan. Lee Chambers, his daughter Krissy and Portia Frampton were a patchwork pack of 3 dog-shifters until they met the lynxes. The loyalty between them was fierce, having survived so much.

Portia had originally been introduced to Sam as a potential bond mate. They had become friends, but both knew their affections were directed elsewhere. Portia had fallen for Peter Frampton, a Wiccan Ally of her pack. They had eloped and bonded in a secret ceremony once they reached the Cuevas’ territory.

Her pack was a rare group, consisting of shifters who weren’t Hunters. Their spiritual ties to ancient magic made it capable for them to change forms. They peacefully worshipped Anubis, an ancient canine God of the Underworld. They were known and revered for their elaborate burial rituals. They often traveled far and wide to assist Hunter territories with their funerals. They understood a certain sect of the supernatural that others often avoided or feared.

When the pack was nearly decimated, it had been the strangest and most jarring event in Therian history. Most of those who hadn’t been traveling were slaughtered in the village. For whatever reason, Portia’s entire bloodline had been targeted. Had she, Peter, Lee, and Chrissy not been visiting the Winchester and Campbell territories that fateful day, they likely wouldn’t be alive now.

Cesar hopped down from his perch into some brush nearby, shifted to his human form, and pulled on a pair of linen pants he’d brought. He smiled at Sam and Dean as if he’d been watching the hilarity of Charlie, Henry, and Pamela for quite some time. “Was your entire trip like this, Dean?” His voice wafted softly mixed with a purring sound. Somehow, that trick made it impossible for Dean to remain irritated. The sound was soothing.

“Nope. Well, not completely. Charlie mysteriously decided to become a fount of random knowledge and love stories a couple nights ago. I bet Portia will be excited, but I doubt any of this will keep Krissy’s attention.”

“How are you, Cesar. Good to see you,” said Sam, embracing the darker man.

“We’re all doing well; the occurrences of creatures and Hellions have decreased lately. Jesse and the others are waiting with dinner. It’s not too early for you, right?”

“Bring on the grub, freckles, I’m starved,” Dean joked, chiming in as soon as the subject of food was broached. He was the only one who could make fun of Cesar’s spots since he had freckles of his own.

Charlie quietly observed the exchanges, unable to distract her racing mind now that she couldn’t talk Dean’s ear off. Pamela and Henry were very much into each other, so there was no one who could help her avoid the subject she was dying to talk about with Sam and Dean, in private.

 

~ ********** ~

 

The group received an enthusiastic greeting from a pretty Doberman and an adolescent, Shepherd-looking pup with red-tinged fur. “Krissy, go get ready for dinner, Charlie will catch up with you soon,” said Lee as he walked over from the sprawling, sectioned-out farmhouse that was home to the small, unorthodox pride. Pamela and Charlie patted Krissy’s head in greeting and let her lead them to the house. Portia followed them.

Sam, Dean, and Henry took the time to chat with Peter and Lee while Cesar went to go look in on his husband. Jesse, when in Lynx form, had a handsome silver coat with cream accents on his paws and the tips of his ears. The two together made a fearsome duo for any monster attempting to roam through their territory. They were also very wise and perceptive, having figured out the intense bond between Sam and Dean as soon as they met the boys.

Jesse and Cesar never confronted them with what they knew. But they knew about the traditions of their pack and wholly disagreed with them. There was a time when they offered the two a home in their pride, but neither of them wanted to leave their family. They kept the boys’ secret, even from the rest of the pride.

After dinner, Jesse and Cesar sat down with Henry and the boys to work out the remainder of Henry’s trip to the coast. While they were discussing the routes they were going to be taking, and working out who would accompany Charlie and Pamela home, Charlie walked in.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt guys, but this really can’t wait. Sam, Dean I need to talk to you. I think it will seriously impact your plans.” She fidgeted, but she looked from Sam to Dean, not giving an inch with the eye contact.

They followed the normally bubbly teen outside. “What’s wrong Charlie? Are you thinking you want to stay here? I’m sure Dorothy would kill us if we didn’t get you back home,” Dean said, only half-teasing. He knew there was no way Charlie would stay away from Dorothy after the progress they’d made with each other.

“Ok, listen. Try not to kill me, okay? I saw you and Sam when we made our last rest stop.” She finally dropped her eyes, sharply focusing on her feet. “I’m sorry I snooped, but you guys left for so long, I thought maybe if you got into trouble I could have helped. I mean, geez I brought enough gear –”

Two pairs of eyes grew wide with shock as two sets of lungs sucked in sharp gasps. “You followed us?!” yelped Sam. He turned to look at Dean and saw they shared the same look of dread and fear.

“Look, please don’t panic. It’s not what you think. I mean, yeah, I am kinda shocked that you two are _that_ close, but honestly, it kinda makes sense… I had enough time to let it sink in,” She shrugged as they looked on, mouths hanging open. “The thing that’s got me tied in knots is the mark you two share. I know I have seen that before.” Moving in sync, Sam and Dean seemed to deflate from relief.

“What do you mean? We thought they were just linked to our Weres since they only appeared when we presented. You’ve seen Lore about this?” Sam asked, instantly curious.

“Wait, so you’re not gonna tell us how wrong we are and how we’re breaking tradition or anything like that?” asked Dean.

“No, goof, after everything you’ve done for me, why would I begin to judge you? Your pack might not be too fond of this if they found out, but it isn’t my story to tell. And yes, Sam, I saw it in some of the material Cassie and her dad were restoring. We found it on a dig a few months ago. It’s a sigil and it translates to ‘Connected to Apollo and Artemis’.”

“Okay, so is that good news or bad?” asked Sam.

“Well, honestly, I am not sure, but I think maybe it would be a better idea to find out sooner than later. So, maybe Jesse and Cesar should escort Henry the rest of the way.” Right then, an alert sounded from the equipment Charlie had set in another room.

Jesse and Cesar approached from the kitchen. “Sam? Dean? What is happening?”

“Not sure yet, sounds like a holo-message. Charlie, what is that?” Dean asked as everyone followed the sound. Charlie reached her rucksack and pulled out the noisy holoform. It suddenly lit up the room as the message started and Mary’s visage appeared.

_“Dean, Sam, my precious boys. If you receive this, please hide yourselves. Keep yourselves safe. The entirety of the Campbell packlands was obliterated not twenty-four hours after you left. Frank and Dorothy escaped the destruction. They arrived the day before yesterday and reported everything. There were creatures everywhere. They were apparently being led by a Hellion, a powerful one. Your grandparents… your cousins… weren’t with them. I sent them and Cassie over to the Harvelle Territory for shelter and to warn them. Her parents insisted on staying with me to help protect John. We are being targeted, boys. I’m afraid we don’t know why, but the Hellions, the OtherKin, they are all looking for you two._  
…  
“There isn’t much time, we think they will be here in a day or two. Your father can’t be moved. We have to increase the warding and fortify the house. Please, don’t worry about us. You and your brother are too important. We love you, always remember that.” 

The holoform went dark. For a moment, everything was still. The shock in the room was palpable. The entire Campbell line was gone, and the Winchesters were targeted. The boys couldn’t go home!

Charlie moved first. She looked around and said, “Dean, where’s Sam?”

 

~ ********** ~

 

Sam barely remembered leaving the house. He didn’t even recall shifting into his True Lycan form until he heard Dean’s voice in his mind. They’d discovered some time ago that they were able to communicate telepathically as True Lycans. Yet another thing that differentiated them from Werewolves. It was extremely helpful on hunts if they ever had to split up.

Sam slowed his pace through the woods. He realized that he’d been trying to rush back home on instinct alone.

_“Sam… Sammy, please. I know you want to go help Mom and Dad, but we can’t give the bad guys what they want. We’ll figure something out, but you gotta come back. Please come back to me, I need you.”_

Sam stopped, panting and overwhelmed, perched high on a large branch in a tree. He felt so helpless and useless. He could also sense Dean’s distress. He knew his brother was right, but he needed to know if their parents were still alive. All those people, _their family_ , taken without warning, because of something to do with them. The sorrowful howl he let loose from his chest echoed through the air for miles.

Before he turned around to go back, he sensed he was not alone. Jesse had followed him, whether to try to talk him down or to help him fight he had no idea. Still, he was grateful for the company as they traveled back in comfortable silence. Dean, in his True Lycan form, met the pair a short distance from the house. Jesse kept on, allowing them the privacy he knew they needed.

They stood together in the clearing, taking in each other’s features as if it would be the last time seeing them. One, completely covered in onyx black fur with eyes of liquid iridescent blue, green, and copper. The other in stunning burnt sienna coloring in an ombre gradience, darkest in the center of his back to lightest on his belly. His cream muzzle and paws combined with peridot eyes presenting an ethereal look. Sam had always told Dean his wolf forms looked like a sunset. Dean had always told Sam his eyes were like a calmed sea after a storm.

Dean walked up to Sam and gave him a comforting lick under his jaw. They held each other as they mourned the loss of their relatives. The grandparents they were named for, Gwen, Christian, all of them, they were great Hunters the boys had grown up with, learning from them almost as much as their parents. The brothers each vowed to make them proud and to avenge them all.

 _“You know I would never willingly leave you, right?”_ Sam asked over the bond. Dean huffed and nodded, knowing there was no way Sam would have stayed away. _“You’re right, we have to figure out a different way, but it may take us splitting up. I have an idea, but you’re gonna hate it.”_

Dean whined aloud, and replied, _“I already hate it.”_

 

~ ********** ~

 

Later that night, the group went over Sam’s idea. Dean would accompany Henry to the coast, and Sam, Jesse, and Cesar would go to investigate the boys’ home. The remaining group would make sure that Charlie and Pamela made it to the Harvelle’s territory so they could check on Dorothy and the remaining survivors. Of course, Dean had been a grouch about separating from his brother in a situation like this, but Sam had appealed to him that the forces behind this must have wanted both of them, together. They could have gone after them at any time during patrols that often separated them.

In the morning, by the time everyone had eaten and started packing for their ventures, several arguments had been made against the plans. Henry was also none too fond of what could be his only remaining family separating further. He certainly did not want Sam, merely eighteen years old, to go to the very location that demons might still be watching. Plus, he also felt the need to see to his son’s welfare.

Pamela had been adamant about choosing to stay with Henry to help him with his research, and to get a new start in her life. She’d been having visions about Henry and the Lone Wolf, a legendary pirate captain who never left a witness who could identify him alive. It was a boogeyman myth parents used to tell their children to get them to behave. She never imagined it to be true. She needed to find out what all this had to do with Henry.

Dean finally suggested that Pam go along with him and Henry. He grudgingly agreed that he and Sam could not be caught in the same vicinity until they were able to figure out what the enemy wanted with them. So, he suggested that Sam, Portia, and Peter get Charlie safely to Ellen’s. Lee and Krissy would be safest if they remained at the house. When Sam opened his mouth to argue, Dean put up his hand to go on to explain that Jesse and Cesar would be able to investigate the packlands -and search for John and Mary- undetected.

It was the best Dean could do; he would never willingly send his little brother back there with the slightest possibility of lingering supernatural activity. As powerful as they were, he would not be able to live with himself if either he or Sam put Jesse and Cesar in danger as well. Once Sam heard that reasoning, he stopped trying to argue.

 


	8. ~ Turning of the Tides ~

_Two Years Later, In Purgatory…_

“Lilith. Oh Lilith,” crooned Alistair as he emerged from his latest session torturing Hell-knows-what poor creature.

“What do you want, Alistair?” snapped the she-demon after a grown of annoyance.

Alistair had been increasingly insistent on her using her powers to look in on the Winchesters. It was no easy task with their wards around their home and in their hunting areas. It was getting more difficult as her store of human souls grew as well, making it harder for her to contain so much power. Despite the fact that she would never share said power with Alistair to make things easier, he didn’t even seem to care about that or her plans.

His obsession with obtaining the hybrid children of the very beings who could destroy them left a foul taste on her evil tongue. She saw no point in keeping them as potentially uncontrollable pets when they should simply be put down like the rest of their kind. Plain humans were a necessary aggravation, but Hunters? Had she the strength, she would wipe them from the universe, the very ether of existence, with a snap of her fingers.

It was bad enough the strays he brought with him were already itching to abandon his insanity. By the sheer power of Lilith being able to contain and manipulate souls, she had a sparse chance of keeping Cain compliant. She had no idea how long his patience would hold before he began demanding to see proof of the ransom she was holding from him. The all-too-human Collette was the only thing that could lure Cain out of retirement.

Abaddon, on the other hand, had potential. If only she weren’t vying for the throne herself. There was no way Lilith was going to allow that particular Knight of Hell a promotion. That would be nearly unlimited power in the hands of a psychotic child with no fear of cosmic repercussion.

Aside from her reservations concerning her own interests, she could sense there was something off with this plan of his. Maybe it was his shortsighted cockiness that told her he was doomed to fail. It all just seemed too easy.

“Now Lilith, don’t be cross. It is imperative that I know what is happening to my prize-fighting beasts. I need to know the opportune moment to rip everything from them and bring their darkness to the surface.” Alistair gloated. Even his voice was torture. He really should just keep his day job. He truly was made for it.

“What happened to Cain being your little scout? I have better things to focus on than two Hunters. I don’t care how rare they are. They will bring your demise, and I will not be dragged down with you. I’ve already died once.”

Alistair looked for a moment as if he would implode at the very mention of Cain. The calm demeanor he used when carving flesh from bone returned as swiftly as it slipped away. “At this time, he is taking care of other items on my agenda. And before you ask, Abaddon is off feeding her obsession, which is just fine because I am in no rush to hear her further nag me about it.”

“Fine, I will seek out your precious pets once more. From this point on it would be in your best interest to leave me alone. If the gate to purgatory shuts, you will never see your mutts,” she warned, fed up and ready to decapitate him. She was just glad that at least Eve was no longer bitching about anything.

She diverted as much power as she dared to locate the Winchester pups, her eyes going full white with concentration. “Interesting, I can sense only one of your little human toys, and he’s not where you left him. Perhaps that little massacre-slash-temper-tantrum you had when they left home really did get the Hunters’ attention. I suggest you try the mountain ranges to the West, or maybe consider leaving well enough alone. Now leave, Alistair.”

 

~ ********** ~

 

Eve had been using every ounce of her concentration and power to locate Collette. It was unfortunate that Cain had chosen a mere human as a mate, but if the alternative was for him to be cursed as a demon for eternity, she’d gladly make an exception. Eve’s creatures may not have been created with Christianity’s moral compass, but they were a damned sight purer than demons. Her flesh and blood son would be spared from that fate.

Using an ancient blood ritual, she created a tether to seek out and latch onto Cain’s connection with Collette. It was very high-level magic, something she’d perfected over the centuries. Blood magic is what kept her connected to all of her children so they would return to Purgatory when they died. It was able to reach past the boundary of familial relation and find love, lust, intense hatred, or any intangible connection between one of her children and what held their attention.

It also took an inordinate amount of time when she was using it to actively search. Months have passed from the moment she and Cain reunited. She could feel it, like tendrils from a vine reaching for sunlight. Souls were quite similar, they radiated white-hot energy and power. There was no true match for the power of a soul. It had been wasted on mortals.

Eve gazed into the bond; she could see clearly now like peering into a clear pool. The woman her son had pledged himself to, the love that had calmed the savage mark with which he was branded. She could feel the fire between them. She called to Collette, as she began to recreate her physical form from the very soil of Purgatory. By the time Cain returned, he would be able to reclaim his bride and be shackled no longer.

The only proviso to this was that magic this deep-rooted and potent required a steep price. Collette would be tethered, bonded to Purgatory. She would be the only immortal with a soul in all of Purgatory. This would be the ultimate test of their love.

 

~ ********** ~

 

Abaddon couldn’t believe it took her as long as it had to figure it out. A ship out on the ocean. Magic had a funny way of turning a phrase. Henry seemed to disappear without a trace despite having used the Blood Call and having two generations of his flesh and blood to attach to. She must have missed him connecting with his descendants while she was busy establishing dominance among Eve’s monstrous creations.

Gargoyles, Sirens, Wraiths, and Harpies all fell in line with barely a challenge. The Gorgon had been the most trouble. That snake-loving sonofabitch was much less primitive. He nearly paralyzed her. Abaddon may have been impossible to kill but it was terribly inconvenient to be frozen in stone for eternity.

She found her way to the sea, the saltwater spray on the wind sizzling on her skin. It was like holy water torture. Therein was his protection. She focused on anything seaworthy, but all she could register was the white noise of the sea. She would need to blink from craft to craft. The benefit for her trouble? If she got the opportunity to kill more than Henry Winchester, she would consider it a bonus.

 

~ ********** ~

 

_At the Harvelle Hunting Grounds…_

When Sam had arrived two years ago with Charlie, Portia, and Peter in tow, it had taken Ellen merely a glance to read Sam’s entire energy. She knew the pain of loss, even if not as acutely as him. Without knowing what happened to John and Mary, the boy had lost his whole family, but to add to that, he’d had to be separated from Dean for who knew how long. Sam’s big brother was the only other person around who truly could relate to him.

She knew the void he was feeling, to an extent, after having lost her husband to a hunt. Then, her adopted son had left a few years after that and hadn’t returned. Ash and the Winchester boys had become great friends when they figured out what they had in common. He’d still felt lost, however, not knowing anything about his past before Ellen and William took him in. Him shifting to a wolf while his whole family became bears had always emphasized his curiosity.

Being different had been a big part of Ash’s life for as long as he could remember, so Ellen couldn’t deny him his need to try to find out more about himself and his birth parents after he presented as what Ellen had called a True Lycan. He had no idea where she’d gotten the term, he’d thought she had made it up to make him and the Winchester boys feel special.

She was one of few who had some idea of what a True Lycan was. At the time, though, she’d been overwhelmed with being a widowed, single mother of two who had to keep a patrolling schedule. And one of her kids had needed special attention to make sure he adjusted to the changes he was experiencing. She never had time to research anything, or even ask anyone else.

When she’d seen Dean go through what Ash had just weeks prior, she was merely relieved to have someone, the Winchesters, to lean on. Then Sam ‘joined the club,’ and it seemed that while that had centered and anchored Dean, it had solidified Ash’s decision to go on his journey. Rather than try to make him stay and find out together more of what Ellen knew, she let him go. From that point, Ellen focused on her daughter, Jo’s training. She worried for her boy though, especially when he stopped sending messages.

Her experience with Ash had just made Ellen more welcoming to other Therians who needed shelter. It didn’t matter their past. Sam and Dean had also made it a point of habit to assist her with patrols when things were quiet in their family’s lands. So, when Sam appeared on her doorstep it merely took one look into his mercurial, stormy gaze and Ellen knew he hadn’t simply been dropping Charlie off.

“Sam, it is so good to see you.” Ellen had embraced him, trying to instill all of her ‘mama bear’ comfort in it. “I am so glad you all safely made it here. Charlie honey, Jo, Cassie, and Dorothy are in back,” she’d said, smiling at the red-haired teen and then looking at Peter and Portia, “and you two lovebirds have a room ready if you want to set your stuff down. Dinner’s in twenty.”

She hadn’t needed to ask Sam if he needed anything or point him to a room. He’d known where everything was for a few years now. She’d simply nodded to him in understanding and let him head out to give him some time to himself. That first night, he hadn’t come in for dinner. Later on that evening she’d heard the sorrow that filled his lone howl.

 

_To Be Continued…_

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by this Art Prompt: Alphas  
> Rating for Art: PG-13  
> Maximum Rating for Story: NC-17  
> Squicks (Hard No’s): Under 15 sex, Hardcore BDSM, No kinks dealing w/ bodily functions like urine or feces, Necrophilia
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> Art Description: Sam and Dean are both Alpha werewolves. Because Dean is older, he expects Sam to bow to him. Sam doesn't see it that way.


End file.
